
Have about 31 minutes to self right now and I spend it with little notes, a little prose here for you, and collective collection of my character…. My next move, my next move… how to approach certain ideas, let no idea fly away. Log and inventory everything— I’d be doing that if it were Monday, or Friday. Oh, and don’t even get me started on Friday, the day that promises relief, a pause. Yeah, if you’re a crusader, you don’t pause. If you do, it’s in the midst of the lifelong, forever stretch for your self-employed story story.
Today, Monday or whatever, is selling wine for me. And, today is a holiday I guess, for some. One of the president’s birthdays. But, I keep working. Even with this cold I feel coming on. Adjuring we all the like enact, just keep moving. It’s Monday, who cares. You shouldn’t. If you do obsess over Monday’s name and reality, then challenge it, show it that you’re not able to be mentally string-pulled. I woke this morning, and just concavely uttered, “Huh.” That’s it. That’s my statement on Mondays. A non-statement. Monday doesn’t deserve a statement. My efforts do, our efforts do. This day and all days are what we say they are. Period.